Shitty davetav fanfic
by ForensicSoda
Summary: Happy birthday Castiel I dont fucking deserve u


All you wanted to do was get fifty dollars out the bank. Thats all. Apparently, the universe decided that your brother, Dirk, jusd HAD to go to the protest. So he had to wait before you got him out of jail. You're readjusting your aviators in line when you hear a scream and a crash, and look behind you. Three people with guns storm in, yelling. They order you to get down, and you do because you can't win a gun fight with a sword.(The sword you don't even fuckin have, because they don't allow that in society).

The troll next to you has gigantic bull horns and is opening and closing his fists. He makes eye contact with you for a millisecond before one of the men pulls him up by his shirt collar.

"Look at this fucking freak!" He screams, and his goons laugh behind him, super villain style. You try to think of a way out of this shitty situation before the leader raises his gun to the trolls' head. Everyone in the bank is petrified.

"Please don't ,shoot me..." the troll meekly says, and you mentally face palm. The leader shooty man roars with laughter, then addresses his unwilling audience.

"Look! This trash is what you co exist with! This pitiful fucking trash!" He screams.

Trolls have co existed with humans equally ever since about 1998, and many have protested this act. But more welcomed it, so people kept their mouths shut. Or, most people.

This act of terrorism wasn't very common, but thousands of trolls faced discrimination every day.

One like, one troll saved everybody.

Then there were those who still lived in the dark ages and treated the trolls cruelly, using gags and whips and ripping their claws then do something of an enormously stupid magnitude.

You stand. "Don't call him trash, you fucking hypocrite." You say, and immediately want death.

"What," the leader says, snapping his neck to face you, "the fuck did you say, bitch?" He says, his voice low and dangerous. He is this close to shooting the poor troll. Speaking of the troll, who was put down three paragraphs ago, he now stares at you helplessly.

Sorry troll.

"I said, don't call him trash, you absolute fucking hypocrite." You stand by your statement, because if you're gonna die, you ain't going out like a little bitch.

Looks like Dirk is gonna have to find someone else to get him out of county.

The leader promptly shoots you in the arm, and you almost scream. You take quick breaths, holding your left arm desperately. You can hear the other bank customers gasp in fright, and one of the goons tell them to shut up.

The goons both headed to different serving stations, and you remember you're in a bank and ow fuck your arm. You drop down, pressing against the wall behind you. The two men demand money, producing large potato sacks from their jackets.

The quivering attendants comply hesitantly, and you take the time to block the bleeding with a rag, generously offered from the mother next to you. She held her child tightly.

You frowned (unseen through your glasses) and looked at the head honcho of the group, smirking beneath his mask. He still held the troll by their collar.

The troll made eye contact with you (somehow) and opened his hand wide.

His index finger went down, then his middle finger.

Fuck fuck he was counting down-

You tensed, and Asshole (the leader) prepared to pull the trigger as his partners got the last of the money.

Four fingers down. The troll put their thumb down, making a fist.

They then slammed the leader with their massive horns, and you took it as your cue to beat up the others. With your remaining functioning arm, you thrash the thieves with kicks and well placed punches, when someone calls the ambulance and you fall backwards.

Fuck blood loss, man.

The troll catches you and sets you against the wall as the buzz of the bank turned into meaningless noise. The troll checks your eyes and smiles reassuringly.

You recall being super gay in that moment.

The last thing you hear before you black the fuck out is...

"Thank you,um, for saving my ass,"

That was romantic.

You wake up in a hospital bed. Your head hurts like hell, and you spot your brother at your side. He looks relieved.

"I'm glad you're okay, fucking dumbass."

Both of you had been taking therapy. You don't need to be reminded that both of you lacked any social skills, so small things like this made you feel normal. Well, as normal as a Strider could be, anyways. After what happened with your bro, your other one, you never thought Dirk would be normal again. Or, at least, this close to normal.

Fuck normal, you just got shot in the arm.

You sigh in relief.

"Guess who brought you here." He said, and not waiting for an answer, he continued. "Some troll with big ass bull horns came in with you tucked in sweetly in his arms, bridal style." Dirk said teasingly.

You decide the only appropriate response was giving him the bird.

Three solid raps on the door alerted you both, and a familiar figure peeked through the small opening.

"Hi,um, , I think," said the troll, walking in with a big ass bouquet. A mixture of gorgeous red flowers of all shades, wrapped with a brown ribbon and a translucent plastic wrap.

Of course, you are a fool, so you say the following

"It's Strider, but whatever, man."

You wish death would come and hold you in it's loving embrace.

The troll apologizes and gives you the bouquet.

"I wanted to thank you, for um, standing up for me at the bank," he says meekly, and you feel your face heating up oh fuck-

The troll rubs their arm all bashful, saying, "You were, really brave, and also very cute," while they rubbed their arm.

"I'm, um, Tavros Nitram. Could I," he then takes a quick peek at his hand, which is slightly smudged with olive green ink, "could I take you out to dinner?"

You're still holding the bouquet in your hands like a fucking moron, and you nod.

Wait a minute.

"Dirk, how the fuck did you get out of jail?!"

Dirk smiles for a second and walks out the room, leaving you and Tavros all to your lonesome.

"So," you say, "wanna tell me a little more about yourself? Not everyone is qualified for a piece of this premium Striderese ass."

Tavros laughs, and you decide you want to hear more of that.

oh f u ck me


End file.
